


The Bae Wolf

by HeavensCrack



Category: Beowulf - Fandom
Genre: Beowulf - Freeform, Explicit Language, Gen, Grendel - Freeform, Modern Retelling, Old English epics, Party, Young Man vs Old Lady, petty revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 03:07:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16778368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavensCrack/pseuds/HeavensCrack
Summary: A modern retelling of part one of the first recorded English tale.





	The Bae Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Now, some people may say, “writing fanfic for an Old English epic isn’t a thing”- I’m here to tell you, yes, yes it is. I actually had to do this for a high school English class two years ago, but I still love this so much. 
> 
> For anyone not familiar with this tale, it is about a land that is being attacked by a demon named Grendel, who has a sensitivity to sound, and is often motivated to attack because of being aggravated by loud noises. Beowulf, a prince, is sent by his father to help combat Grendel as a debt to the king of this land. Beowulf naturally, being the hero, defeats Grendel, everyone is happy, yay. This is only part one! I haven’t actually been able to find parts two or three, but here’s hoping. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy this modern retelling of Beowulf!

The booming bass line thrummed through the building. Grendel felt the room vibrate in time with the music, little flakes of plaster fluttering down from the ceiling. Her glass of water was trembling on the table beside. She squinted up from her book, extremely unimpressed. Those damn teenagers were causing a ruckus, AGAIN. And it was 10:30 at night, for goodness sake! She had complained to the building management countless times, and they had done jack squat, each and every time. 

Grumbling to herself, Grendel clutched the arms of her chair with bony fingers, and slowly raised herself to her feet. She winced as her stiff limbs straightened, not unlike a child folding two snapped, brittle sticks still attached by a piece of bark. Alas, she knew that if she wanted any peace, she’d have to do something herself. Grabbing her walker by the dark mahogany table, now coated in a fine layer of plaster, she hobbled to her front door. Carefully closing it behind her, she wondered if she really wanted to leave the security of her home and deal with those ingrates. After all, all she’d need to do is open the door again and try to ignore it. She heard another rumble. Glaring upwards for a moment, she hardened her resolve to deal with those pesky children. They wouldn’t let her sleep. Scowling, she turned away from her door into the dimly lit hallway. _This is the last time they disturb me,_ she vowed.

***

“WOOOOOOO!” The crowd cheered as the blond-haired boy swung back up into a sitting position. Beaming his white teeth broadly, he sprung to his feet and swept himself into a deep bow. The cheering intensified, and his bro ran up and slung him over his shoulders. The crowd surged forward, and after a few minutes’ struggle, the boy was teetering on his friend’s shoulders, holding aloft a red solo cup as if it were a trophy.

“YASSSS!” He screamed over the wicked-cool music. Seriously, this bass was lit! “Friends, Romans, Party animals!” He shouted. “I AM THE BAE WOLF! I AM YOUR MASTER! AAA-WOOOOOOO!” The crowd shouted in response, raising their cups as a salute. Alcohol sloshed out in waves, but everybody was far too drunk to care. 

_Thud. Thud. Thud._ A loud banging could be heard. A few kids started bobbing in time with the noise, apparently thinking it was part of the music. The rest either looked around the room or studied their drinks, not overly concerned. One girl pointed at the door and shouted at the top of her lungs, “GUYS! THE PIZZA’S HERE!”

A loud cheer rang out across the room. The “Bae Wolf” hushed the music, and put his finger over his lips. They’d rehearsed this, they would pretend to be a normal group of studying students just innocently wanting 63 pizzas. Of course, they hadn’t really thought this through at all, it just seemed like a great idea at the time, so why change it? A couple of girls giggled, they were going to give away the whole plan! Bae Wolf waited until the girls were quiet, and tried sneaking towards the door, but ended up looking less stealthy and more like one of those videos of Olympic hurdlers with the hurdles photoshopped out. 

_Thud. Thud. Thud._ The blond boy, putting on his most innocent smile, swung open the door.

***

Grendel glared into the room with beady old-lady eyes. The room was covered in hastily thrown streamers, multiple laser lights shooting the room into strange colours, and packed full of teenagers. Grendel was disgusted to see that most of the girls in there were hardly dressed, so much bare skin distorted by the lights. The room reeked of alcohol. 

The shaggy haired boy at the door squinted at Grendel in confusion. “Hey, yer not the pisa man,” he slurred. “Yer too old!” The crowd behind him gave an appreciative “OOOOOH!”, and the boy turned around to acknowledge them. She was disgusted by the pleased look on his face, and the lack of manners from all of these young’uns. 

“No, I am not the pizza man,” Grendel replied cooly. “I am here to request that you please keep your music down. There are good people trying to sleep in this building, and they can’t catch a wink. And this is not the first time you have caused a racket, young man.” 

“You can’t control us, Grandma! PARTY ON!” A kid yelled from the background.

“I am glad to say, I am not your grandmother,” she said.

“The old hag is savage,” someone else said. There was a round of applause from inside the room. 

Grendel’s face flushed with anger. “Now listen here, children, you are all being very rude. Please be considerate and turn down your music when you are gathering.” She wrinkled her nose. “Also, you should not be drinking alcohol, it is not good for people your age, legal or not.”

“Nazi,” someone coughed. Laughter milled about. The blond-haired boy grinned at Grendel. “Look, Granny, we’re just minding our own business here. Not my fault you’re too sensitive! Maybe you should turn off your hearing aids, amIright? So, if you can go shuffle your way back to whatever hell you crawled out of and stop ruining our fun, that would be splendid. Have a good night!” With that, the door was slammed in Grendel’s face, and the loud music pumped once again. 

This was the final straw. Those brats were going down, as the kids used to say. Once Grendel got home, she picked up her phone and dialed a number. 

***

The early morning sun filtered through the window, striking Bae Wolf right in the face. He cautiously opened one eye, groaning as a dagger of light stabbed his retina. He rolled over, head pounding like crazy. Squinting, he sat up, facing away from the window, and rubbed his hair with one hand. It was oddly sticky. He shot up, and fell back to the ground just as quickly as he had gotten up. Moaning, he picked himself off the ground, slowly this time, and looked around the room. Clothes and empty red cups littered the hardwood, dried puddles of beer and who knows what else staining it. Crap. Bae Wolf himself was on the floor, for how long, he didn’t know. He couldn’t remember last night very well, only a few blurred moments. He rolled his neck, wincing at the cracks. Picking his way carefully through the mess, he headed towards his beaten chocolate couch and cupped his hands around his mouth. 

“Hey, dildos! Get up!” He shouted at the couple passed out on it. They lifted their heads, blinking blearily, until Bae Wolf threw some clothes off the floor at them and chased them around, obnoxiously clapping his hands behind them until they hurried out the door, grasping the fabric and looking utterly confused as to where they were and why they had been on a couch together. Bae Wolf didn’t care. The second they were out the door, he called, “Thanks for coming, have a great day!” and slammed the door on their bewildered faces. He leaned against the door, breathing deeply. Then he got up to search his small apartment for any other stragglers. Not finding any, he wearily walked into his bathroom to inspect the damage that was Yours Truly. 

Immediately, the rancid stench of vomit assaulted his nostrils. “Aw, man,” he choked, his eyes watering. He stretched out his long leg, flushing the contents of the toilet with his foot. He turned to his speckled mirror, and groaned at the reflection. His eyes were bloodshot red, his usually combed hair coated in a layer of sticky booze, face and bare chest completely covered in smeared lipstick. How that happened, he didn’t, and didn’t want to, know. He had to stop having these parties. For a second, he seriously considered giving up. He was tired of wrecking his body and spending his weekends liquored up and blacked out, just to look cool. Yeah, it was great to be everyone’s hero. On the field, on the kegstand, basically any stupid, meaningless thing, he just _had_ to be the best at. And for what? He didn’t know anymore. _Oh right,_ he thought bitterly. His old man, when discovering his only son got accepted into college, told him to “finally make himself into something he could be proud of, like a doctor or whatever.” Hurt, Bae Wolf had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t give his father what he wanted, he’d do the exact opposite. All the money pissed away on booze, on college, it all came out of his father’s bank account. He could afford to be everyone’s hero, to be overly, annoyingly extravagant, on spite alone. That, and the old bastard’s money. 

_Well, the party must go on,_ Bae Wolf thought. _I have a reputation to uphold._ He took a few steps into his bedroom, and suddenly crumpled partway on his bed. 

When he woke up about twelve hours later, he got up and started searching for his phone, which was chirping insistently. He found it under a pair of very short shorts. Ugh. Wiping it off on his filthy sweatpants, he checked what was oh so important. Multiple texts popped up, from his friends and one unknown number: _Party tonite, 338 west street, apartment 203, bring friends. The rest of the texts were something like: hey, u goin 2 the party tonite? Bro, party!!! Lit party last nite, u going 2 this 1? Dude! Comin over in 5. Party!!!! :D_

 _Well, here we go again,_ Bae Wolf sighed, and started prepping himself for another alcohol-soaked night. 

***

“Alright, y’all ready?” Trin asked, smacking her gum as she lounged on Bae Wolf’s couch. He walked over and swept her feet off his coffee table as he slumped onto the couch. 

“Yeah, let’s go!” Parker said, pulling both of them off the couch. “Jace and the boys are meeting us there.”

“Guys, literally, it’s a floor below. It’s not a big deal.”

“You have cool neighbours?” Trin asked. 

Bae Wolf pondered that. “Actually, not that I know of. Must be new.” He shrugged and started heading out the door for the elevator. 

Once they made it to the door, sure enough, Jace, Adam, and Sam were there waiting. They knocked on the door, and patiently waited for someone to open it.

Inside was a scene of utter horror. A thin voice yelled, “hit it!” Some classical music, probably Beethoven, who knows, started blasting from a stereo. The party-goers were not in their twenties, like Bae Wolf and the others were expecting, it was a bunch of old people trying to twerk or grind on each other. The grandmas were in dreadfully short skirts, revealing WAY more than any of them had ever wanted to see. Some were also only wearing old-lady brassieres on their chests. One of the old ladies grinned at the horrified students in the doorway. 

“Ah, welcome to the party, Bae Wolf! Glad you could make it!” 

Bae Wolf’s friends turned to him in shock. “Wait, you know this oldie?” 

Bae Wolf’s jaw dropped, utterly confused. “What? No! I’ve never met her before! What the hell?” Suddenly…. it hit him, like a ball when you’re not paying attention in gym class. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” But kidding it was not. It was that old lady from last night, the really bitchy one. 

He knew how this would play out. Two options: he could continue this fiasco, and embark in a series of hilarious pissing contests, trying to show his friends he could assert his dominance against a senior citizen, or just end it all now, like he wanted to. Screw popularity. Screw heroism. 

“I’m done!” He shouted. “I am done. I’m done with all this bullshit. Fuck you all. I’m going home. You happy? Good. Have a jolly good fuckin’ day.” With that, the hero exited the hallway, down to the solitary retreat of his messy apartment, holding a one-finger salute to everyone behind.


End file.
